


Don't Ask When, Don't Ask Why

by joyfulsongbird



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: F/M, Like fluffy fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, i did every song from any way the wind blows to all ive ever known, i may continue someday for now, my first series!, orphydice, you stuck with just this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfulsongbird/pseuds/joyfulsongbird
Summary: I wrote a fic for every song, starting at Any Way The Wind Blows to All I've Ever Known. I may continue this some day, but for now, this is just the fluffiest series you'll ever read.
Relationships: Eurydice & Persephone (Hadestown), Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hermes & Orpheus (Hadestown)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	1. Any Way The Wind Blows/Come Home With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImaStrugglingArtist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaStrugglingArtist/gifts).

Sunshine kissed cheeks red with biting wind, button nose running. She was called out of the cold by a man. Wary of men who invite her inside, she pulls her jacket closer. Finding relief in the crowded bar. The heat of a dozen and a half bodies all moving together, between tables, at the bar. Voices merging together, she finds solace in the way she can hide herself in the corner, but not so far in the corner that she can be backed into the shadows and no one will see a hand too close or a side smile meant only for an unwilling girl. Where no one will hear a voice offering a night away from the cold.

She knows how to survive. Everyone does now.

It’s all she’s ever known how to do.

Her candle won’t light, her fingertips still freezing from the time outside in the cold. Her eyes lift to scan the crowd, the body count not too high so that she feels claustrophobic in the small space. She’s been in plenty of bars before but this one feels more… homey. Cozy. Somehow, with not much on the walls but the drinks menu above the bar and a stage with a several people playing an arrangement of instruments, filling the place with music. Her attention is caught for a second by the band itself, a small band with just a pianist, a guitarist, a violin player, and an upright bass. A small group, but all smiling nonetheless. A microphone sits at the front of the stage, unused so far. Her eyes slide from player to player, the women playing the violin sways the music, the pianist grins so widely it looks like his face will split, these people find joy in each other, even in the cold of winter.

The guitar player she hadn’t been paying much attention to has angled himself away from the crowd, his playing stopped. Eurydice hadn’t realized how much of the music he had been carrying until he’d stopped playing, now it feels hollow and sad without his nimble fingers filling the pauses between others music.

Her interest lost, she turns back to her candle, biting her lip at the remembrance that the cold is still settling into the night, and where will she sleep? Who will take her in so late? Especially since these people seem to pay no attention to her, they live for the music and the gathering of their tight knit community that she isn’t a part of. This is not a safe place for tonight, she should keep going, she should walk through the night like she had dozens of times before and sleep during the day when it’s warmer. But she can’t, for whatever reason, she’s tied down. as if waiting for a sign or a motion-

“come home with me.”

The guitarist stands before her, his mouth parted in a smile so small yet so bright. and hovering a few feet behind him, leaning against a table is the man in the silver suit who had ushered Eurydice inside.

“who are you?”

he just stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot before answering. he appears shy, with his fingers twitching on the fretboard of the guitar he clutches in his hands. as if he’s itching to play it.

“the man who’s gonna marry you!”

maybe a little less shy than she initially thought.

“I’m Orpheus!”

gods, what a fitting name

she laughs though, leaning sideways to catch the silver suited man’s eye. “is he always like this?”

the look in his eye is solemn. “yes.”

“uh- I’m Eurydice.” her offering surprises herself, after all, names are powerful and once you give up your name, it’s like you’re opening a door to let others see deeper inside of you. Her name is a powerful one, her mother used to say it meant “justice”. she was the balance of the universe, keeping balance and peace. As she grew older, she found that she was not a balance but a storm, a hurricane wound up like a spring inside a pintsized body. she isn’t justice, she’s a chaotic courthouse, one without a judge.

“your name is like a melody.” the brightness in his eyes, the floating sense in his voice makes her heart become a butterfly, her breathing catches for a moment.

“A singer? is that what you are?” his voice sure leans towards that, the lilting melodic quality of just his speaking voice. he isn’t even trying and it sounds beautiful, like the chirping of a songbird, or the voice of a siren.

“I can also play.” he lifts his guitar an inch or two to show her, the instrument is beautiful, detailed and old. It looks like it’s been around for a millenia, the wood worn and smooth, the strings just a little rusty.

“oh and a player too?” she stands from her seat, finding that she still isn’t anywhere meeting his eyeline. She’s always had to find other ways to assert her dominance, since the small body she was born with doesn’t exactly give off an intimidating vibe. She jumps to sit on the table, lifting her eyes to meet his. She looks away immediately, looking into his eyes only makes her want to keep looking and that isn’t a hole she can fall into. “I’ve met too many men like you.”

“oh no, I’m not like that.” the notion of even the idea of it makes him shake his head, expression darkening slightly. Only for it to brighten briefly as a memory crosses his mind. “I’m working on a song, it isn’t finished yet, but when I finally sing it, spring is gonna come again!”

“come again?” maybe she misheard.

“spring!”

“when?” she asks. “I haven’t seen a spring or fall since… I can’t recall.”

“that’s what I’m workin’ on, so that when I sing it, I can bring spring back to you.”

to you

already, the buzzing warmth is pooling in the bottom of her stomach. she has to stop it, she has to nip this in the bud before it overtakes her body and she won’t be able to escape.

“It’ll bring the world back into tune… when you become my wife.” he drops to his knee, holding out a paper flower, made of what looks like an old newspaper. Folded carefully and with just care and love that she can’t help but melt at the effort

“oh, he’s crazy.” she plucks the flower from his hand, holding it in front of her to look at the craftsmanship. He isn’t an artist but he is a lover, that’s for sure. A wife, the idea is preposterous, she’s never going to become a wife. the idea had never been attractive to her, after watching her mother and all the women in her life fall into an inescapable cavern that tied them with wedding bands, she promised herself she’d never be tied down like that. but when she looks at him, he is a man of many promises, and she doesn’t know if he’ll keep any of them but he’s going to try.

“why would I become his wife?” she speaks to the silver man once again, without looking up.

“maybe because he’ll make you feel alive.” his deep timbre voice comes back quick answer, as if he knew exactly what answer to give before she’d asked the question.

she scoffs. “alive? that’s not worth much these days… what else ya got?”


	2. Wedding Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a fic of the song Wedding Song from Hadestown. part 2 of my 4 part series where I write every song starting at Any Way The Wind Blows to All I've Ever Known. each chapter can be read individually but it's always more fun to read a series right? absolute fluff, just... adorable.

“what’ll you do if we marry and the cold comes on like it always does? times like these are hard to survive in by ourselves but together?”

“we’d have each other.” Orpheus says, taking a step forward, she leans back, warily. “When I finish my song, the rivers will sing along, and provide what we need for us.”

“funny,” she smiles, standing from her place at the table to wander over to the bar, he follows, like a dog at her heel. He hasn’t stopped smiling and when she looks at him, his eyes don’t roam her like she’s free property, like she’s there to look at. he’s looking at her face… admiring it. searching her eyes for something to grasp onto.

“who’d buy the wedding bands? who’d arrange the ceremony? marriage doesn’t make sense in these dark times- can I get a drink?”

the bartender, who turns out to be the silver suited man, gives her a sideways look before going for a cup. she gets the message right away, give the boy a chance.

“who needs wedding bands?” Orpheus says earnestly. “when you’ve got love.”

“love?” she laughs, leaning up against the bar. “love’s gonna get us through winter? love’s gonna make spring come back?”

“I think so.”

love.

he doesn’t love her, she knows that. he’s known her for all of five minutes. But something in her stirs at the idea that someday he might, that anyone could. that the idea doesn’t disgust him, and it scares her even more that the idea doesn’t disgust her. and when she’s scared, she runs. so she accepts the drink from the silver man, and she pauses before drinking.

“how much?” he waves his hand.

“on the house.” he says, and before she can object he walks off. strange man, but she’s thankful. the burning in her stomach needs something to put it out. and when she’s scared, she drinks. she takes a large gulp, gripping the tin cup so hard that her knuckles turn white.

A silence falls between the two of them, the poet and the runaway, and as she stands there, almost lying in wait, the burning in stomach licks its way up to between her ribs, she should’ve known the liquor would only feed the fire. the sensation doesn’t hurt, it shifts and moves with the intake of her breath and the murmuring of her heart. her head is screaming at her, go, go, go. this isn’t a safe place to be in, with a boy looking at her with romance in his eyes and marriage as his dream. but no one had ever looked at her like that. there’s more than romance there, there’s a softness, there’s joy, there’s music and song, and she wants to hear him sing.

“so when you sing your song, the one you’re working on. spring will… come again?” she speaks just the break the silence, to break the tension building in her stomach. her fear rises with each word because she knows, she knows that when she hears him sing, she’ll never be able to let go.

“yes!” he sounds sure of himself, she almost pities him. she’s never heard of music bringing back seasons, she’s never been a believer in much, and she doesn’t exactly believe in this but this boy is so sure, so positive that spring will come again that she has to know.

“why don’t you sing it then?”

“it isn’t finished.” he shrinks just slightly back into himself, embarrassment blooming on his cheeks.

“sing it.” her tongue rolls out the words, before she can regret saying them. as if to tease to throws her coat half of her coat off of one of her shoulders, exposing the strap of her dress underneath. she can’t conceal her grin at the look on his face, priceless awe, a laugh escapes her. “you wanna take me home?”

“yes.” she wants to bottle that word, bottle the way he says it. so that she can repeat it and listen for hours, so that her heart will flutter like it does right now every time she hears it.

“sing the song.” he grips the neck of his guitar tightly, assuredness washing over his features as he nods, turning to walk briskly over the band on the stage. he stops by each one of them, whispering in their ears as the music slowly stops and she watches as the entire bar falls silent, like they know what’s coming. he’s so comfortable on that stage, far more comfortable standing there in front of all of those people than he did standing before one raven haired women, trying to speak to her for the first time.

gripping the mic, she watches his chest rise and fall in one last deep rhythm. “um… you all know I’m Orpheus but I’ve been uh- challenged to sing my original song. it’s unfinished, just so everyone knows. but… I’ll just sing it I guess.”

people fall silent. it’s quieter in here than she’s ever heard a bar be. they wait and she crosses her fingers, part of her hoping that his song isn’t as encapsulating as the boy himself.

and when he opens his mouth, her hopes are shattered and her heart fies into her throat.

this boy sings with a million souls in his chest, filling the room with a sound so ethereal, so lovely that the world fills itself with it and quakes with the power of such a melody. she closes her eyes, the music so overwhelming that she can’t see and listen at the same time.

It’s over not long after he begins, and he holds the final “la” as she opens her eyes to realize that her feet have carried her to the foot of the stage. she stands below him, gazing up with an open mouth.

“how’d you do that?” he sits down on his heels, smiling, and holding out his hand that holds a real, red flower in it. where it came from, she doesn’t know, nor does she care.

“I don’t know.” she reaches tentatively forward to take the flower from his hand, holding it gingerly in front of herself. The talking in the bar resumes but she’s left in awe of the spectacle before her.

“the song’s not finished though.” her attention is caught by Orpheus again, still looking at her, still admiring her with those hazel eyes she can see close up now. He’s beautiful, she can admit that now, hair falling over his forehead, smile brighter than the sun in the summer. pale freckles sprinkled along his nose and on his cheeks that she can only see now that he’s closer than before.

“even so, it can do this?”

“I know.”

“you have to finish it!” suddenly, there’s something her belly that’s different, new, something she hasn’t felt in a long time. it isn’t lust, or love, it’s a want. she observes this deep, unfamiliar feeling. not a need, not something that’ll kill her if she doesn’t get, but a longing, a wanting. maybe she’ll never act on it, maybe she’ll run away before the longing takes over her body. but it makes happiness rack through her body knowing that she can still actually want. she can still feel.

her fingers card through the many petals of the flower she holds. “ask me again.”

“what?” Orpheus asks.

“ask me to come home with you again.” Eurydice say softly. “and I may change my answer.”

“okay.” she doesn’t look but she knows that his smile is even wider. “come home with me?”

“tell me, that if we are wed, you’ll protect me, and then I’ll say yes.”

“if we are wed, I will always protect you, in the darkness or the light.”

“take me home with you then, Orpheus.”


	3. Livin' It Up On Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 3 of my 4 part series, where I write every song starting at Any Way The Wind Blows to All I've Ever known. I may continue on in the future but for now, you get all this fluff. and a little angst at the end of the series but that's it: just fluff.

Eurydice isn’t a shy person, but spending time with Orpheus makes her feel like it. and it terrifies her. she keeps trying to bury the warmth that pools in her chest when she sees him, pushing it down until she can’t see it anymore. but it’s like plugging a faucet with your finger, the pressure builds and something is going to leak out, she’s going to blurt something out and ruin it. she knows Orpheus feels things for her, hell, he approached her with marriage first.

she convinces herself that staying with him, for just the one night can’t hurt anything, that sleeping on his couch while the cold passes over won’t do anything. he tried to get her to sleep on the bed, but she outright refused, she is just a tourist in these parts and this is his home, he has to sleep in his own bed. she’ll leave soon, she’ll leave and Orpheus will be heartbroken, and she’ll never see him again. good. Orpheus deserves someone... someone who isn’t like her, he deserves someone besides damaged goods. when summer comes, she’ll go, she’ll travel farther south where the winters aren’t as harsh and the summers are even more intense.

the problem is, when summer does arrive, she stays. she watches the green come back, the train roll in, and her feet stay planted. she doesn’t even know Orpheus very well, all she’s done is sleep in his small home for a night and hear him sing a... beautiful melody. and yet, here she stands, long gone and staying.

she feels separated from this crowd of people, all of the members of this town are so close, having lived with each for so long. when the train rolls and the door opens, a cheer starts as a few claps and then a women in green appears and it rises to a roar. Eurydice has heard myths about this women: Lady Persephone, the women who used to bring spring to them but now only summer, married to the king of the underworld. she’s well known in all parts of the world, but she only visits certain places personally and it seems that this town is the jackpot. she had no idea when she arrived in the rusty, small village that she’d be heading into the unknown summertime hotspot.

Eurydice watches warily from the back of the crowd, sticking by Orpheus side, but not too close, just close enough so that she can’t lose sight of him. he’s grinning, straining to see over the many heads of the crowd. they watch as Persephone throws her arms around the silver suited man, who she now knows as Mister Hermes, Orpheus’ godfather. they embrace tightly, a familiarity to the both of them, like they’ve known each other their entire lives.

“they’re siblings you know.” Orpheus says, as if sensing her thoughts

“what?” she exclaims. “that’s not possible, she’s a goddess and he’s...”

“he’s not mortal, that’s for sure.” Orpheus shrugs, as if it’s the most casual thing to be given a drink on the house by a god, or to shake his hand and be introduced like you’re the important one. “c’mon, let’s go to the bar, before the crowd gets the idea first.”

“okay.” she agrees instantly, still in awe over what she’s seeing. green, everywhere. the birds suddenly come back from wherever they had migrated for the winter. they sing, and fly about the sky. flowers bloom under her heels and she’s walking across fields of them, the rolling hills around the town are aglow with the sunshine. she can feel Orpheus watching her as they walk, his face turned to hers. she keeps her face forward, lips pursed into thin lines to keep herself from smiling.

they arrive at the bar, and Orpheus gets to work, moving quickly to set everything up before the patrons arrive and the place becomes buzzing with life, distracting and inviting. he’s the bartender tonight, though he’d been forced to promise to grace them with his music later in the night. Eurydice looks forward to it. she’s only heard him a select few times and she yearns to hear it again.

“so this is... a big part of the year?” she asks, sitting atop the bar and watching him work. “this party and Persephone coming back? everyone seems to really be into it.”

“oh yeah,” Orpheus answers. “since we’re the place Lady Persephone spends most of her time, all the regular patrons prepare gifts even though she tells them not to and makes a big party to thank her.”

“so she’s friends with everyone? And Hermes is her brother, so you’ve gotta know her pretty well.”

“I wouldn’t say she raised me, but she... helped raise me, in the summer months.” he reaches up to grab a pitcher from a high cabinet, catching it between two fingers. the muscles under his shoulder blades become more prominent and she averts her eyes right away, unable to divulge in just looking at him. she’d get too caught up in that.

“she must be very kind.”

“she is.” he says, holding out the pitcher. “hold this please?”

“um... sure.” she gently takes it, turning it over in her hands. It’s a lovely glass pitcher, with engravings in the handle, flowers and symbols in a language she doesn’t understand. “what is it anyways?”

“Just her favorite piece that we have, mister Hermes always has be take it when she arrives so she can use it and we can set it out to be admired. A stupid tradition, I know, I’m not sure why we don’t just keep it out year round but- oh, here they come!”

Persephone is striding in front of the group, heading straight towards the two of them. she practically glows, lighting the entire place up even brighter.

“I see you’ve got my favorite piece, I promised my husband I’d bring it back this year!”

“I’ll miss it, Lady Persephone, it’s very beautiful.” Orpheus says, but he’s looking at Eurydice, still seated on top of the bar and holding the pitcher close to her stomach, to make sure she doesn’t drop something so important. she feels warmth lick at her cheeks that she tries to push down, but she can’t help that her pink cheeks easily light up. Persephone sees, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them, a knowing look dawning on her face.

“Ah- it is.” Persephone says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around, miss. a new face?”

“Quite new, actually.” she extends one of her hands to shake Persephone’s. “I’m Eurydice.”

“nice to meet you, Eurydice. Thanks for holding onto my vase, I’ll take it now.” Eurydice gently hands the piece over to the women who unceremoniously places it in her bag without a thought. “Let me get you a drink, you look like you could use it.”

“oh, you don’t have to-”

“it’s summertime!” she yells, loud enough for the other patrons to hear, they all cheer. “indulge in life a little! live minute to minute for once! have a drink and come dance with me!”

she loops her arm through Eurydice’s and tugs her along, Eurydice gets one glance back at Orpheus. He’s laughing, a wonderful sound that she wishes she could record to play again and again. The bubbling noise of his laughter follows her, always twinkling in her ear and reminding her that there are good things in world. right before her, she has the embodiment of summertime cheering her on. And behind her, a boy filled with hope. miracles can happen if someone who’s been broken for this long can find solace in a random town, on a random night, on a day she meant to leave.

***

An hour or two and a couple drinks later, Eurydice has realized that this town is different than any of the others she’s been to before. they sing, they dance, and they welcome a runaway with open arms. she’s different from them, deep down she knows that, but right now, she feels one with summertime.

“c’mon songbird!” persephone shouts over the crowd. “come dance with me! show off those moves.”

“songbird?” eurydice laughs. “why songbird?”

“oh don’t ask me that!” Persephone grins at her. “the feathers in your hair, your skinny little legs, that pretty singsong voice you’ve got.”

“I guess I’ve been asking for it then.” Eurydice laughs. “but I am not- you can’t!”

Persephone drags her forward, into the center of the crowd, effectively parting it with just her ethereal presence. Eurydice’s laughing without even thinking about it, this is what she’s good at, she’s always been a natural mover. she can feel the energy of the crowd, seeping into her bones and warming her entire insides until she’s moving and dancing. this is nothing like how she’s had to dance before, with men watching her every move and with her mind screaming for help. this is freeing. this is what she always hopes for when she moves on to a another town, she hopes for these brief moments where she can breath. she feels the energy seeping from the crowd into her bones.

When she sways her hips, they cheer. when she spins, her dress fans out and she feels like a bird, with tailfeathers for all to see.

she stumbles over to the bar, where Orpheus still stands, smiling and clapping at the crowd of people.

“dance with me!” she shouts of the music and noise.

“what?” his eyes widen to huge saucers.

“you know what I said!” she grabs his wrist, pulling him around the bar.

“are you drunk?” he asks as she tugs him into the crowd.

“no,” she assures. “I’m completely sane.”

she’s always had a high tolerance for alcohol and now is no exception, she’s just high on the experience, on the energy of the room. she takes both of his hands in hers, swinging them back and forth to get a feel for the way they feel in hers. his hands are large, deft from all of his playing, calloused in a way that says he is a kind musician, not a fighter. with scars on his fingertips.

she laughs at how uncomfortable he is. “loosen up! I don’t bite.”

“I don’t know how to do this!” he laughs, his cheeks bright red.

“I’ll show you.” she takes his hand again, harder so that he’s sure that she’s leading. “it’s fun, just... dance. move around, this isn’t a waltz, Orpheus. be silly.”

as if to show him, she shakes her head, fanning her hair like a lion’s mane. he twirls her under his arm in the same movement, leaving her unbalanced at the sudden change.

“yeah! exactly like that!” she shouts, bouncing on the balls of her feet. it goes on like that for awhile, Eurydice jumps and twirls and Orpheus watches her, swaying the music, copying Eurydice’s movements here and there, moving with her. after a couple minutes, he gets up the courage to do something he’s been wanting to do for awhile, ever since he saw her starting to dance.

as the music begins to slow to something less high energy, he places both hands on her hips, gently so that she could pull away when she wanted. but to his surprise, she doesn’t, instead choosing to clasp her hands at the back of his neck. drawing the two of them even closer.

she’s even prettier close up, is what he thinks.

he’s even prettier up close, is what she thinks.

she could look into his eyes forever, she can see now that they are a wonderful hazel color, green and brown and deep.

they’re one of the only people left on the dance floor, everyone else’s lack of a partner and exhaustion got the better of them and they sit at nearby tables. the songbird and the poet can’t seem to hear the rest of the world, they’re too absorbed in their closeness to pay attention to everything else. the band keeps playing and that’s all that matters, is that the music should go on forever and they never stop dancing.

“I-” the band interrupts Orpheus just as he’s about to speak, his tone was soft and she actually wanted to hear what he was going to say but they strike up a fast tune again. they break apart, as people flood the dance floor again.

Eurydice wipes sweat off of her brow, her mind is in turmoil. she never meant for this to happen, she never meant to care for him. what is she doing? why is she still holding his hand? why is she standing so close to him? this is bad, bad, bad. she’s in too deep already and everything is screaming at her to run. all of her past experiences, her instincts that she always listened to, her physical body aches to escape. but whatever it is that’s holding to this poor boy is stronger than all of that.

“let’s go home.” Eurydice suggests quietly.

“okay.”

she allows for him to lead her out of the bar, across a field of daisies and back to his home.

This isn’t going to end well, she knows that. but despite her screaming mind, her body carries herself inside. and she’s long gone before the weather can change.


	4. All I've Ever Known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final part to my 4 part series. I'm so excited to share this part cause it's one of my favorite songs and pieces to write. ya'll get some angst at the end, you get that fluff and get hit with that angst.

There is no light for her to see his expression. There is no assurance to stop her beating heart. she tries to tell herself over and over, the seasons will change, this summer will end, leave before you get too attached to this life.

It feels too late, she’s warm and comfortable and… happy. that’s never happened before. this has never happened before.

“Orpheus, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“what?” he says, she can hear the confusion in his voice. “why?”

“I didn’t mean to- gods, I wanted to leave but now, you’ve made it so much harder for me, you know that?”

“harder for you to… leave? leave who?” she lets out a small laugh, it feels wet and on the verge of tears or a scream of some kind. she could grip both sides of her head, block out his voice, just muffle all of the things that are rooting her here, to this place.

“you. I couldn’t leave you after even just this day. I…” she shakes her head, trying to clear her head to something she can shape into words. these sentences keep falling out of her mouth wrong, and she needs it to be right, she needs him to understand clearly.

“Orpheus, do you see this?” she gestures to her whole body, to the ratty dress and the choppy hair and worn out boots. he nods silently, she barely sees it in the dark. “this feral, good for nothing girl who never… who has never known anyone like you.”

“Like me?”

“kind and good and wants to talk to me and you haven’t hurt me.” a voice in her head says not yet but she pushes it down, for the first time, she resists those voices.

“I guess I’ve just been lonely for so long, I forgot what it feels like to not to be alone.” she says quietly. “It feels like I never had someone in the first place, and now you’re here, standing right there, and I just… I’ve never wanted to be near someone. to stand side by side someone and not run away.”

he’s still silent, she can’t see his expression and all she wants is to shine a light on it so she can gauge his reaction. is he disgusted? does he hate her now? is the whole world crumbling around her and she can’t see it? how embaressed she’d be if she confessed the first feelings she’s felt in years, maybe the first true feelings in her entire life, and be shot down and wounded, like a bird that can’t fly. she’ll have to limp out of here.

she takes a step forward, despite how sticky and sweaty her palm is, she lifts an outstretched hand. lifting her eyes to meet Orpheus’, she tries her best not to communicate her desperation, she wants him to hold her, and more importantly, she wants to hold him. she wants to wrap her arms around him and never let go. and then a miraculous thing happens, he reaches up tentatively, taking her outstretched hand gently in his. their fingers don’t quite fit together yet, unsure of how to fit her small hand in his large one.

like magic, he looks to her for confirmation and she wants to scream into the void “yes, this is more than okay! this is wonderful!” but she doesn’t, because if she’s anything she’s composed, she’s mature and older than she appears. the giddy schoolgirl that never flourished wakes up in her chest, she breathes out a sigh of content at the feeling of drawing him close. she’s not even fully aware of where she moves, she just knows that his hand rests on her waist and she isn’t pulling away, her back is on his chest. she knows that for sure, his heartbeat is strong, quick, reverberating through her body in shivers. despite the darkness, she feels flooded with sunlight, from the top of her head ranging all the way to her fingertips and toes, she is alight with rays of shining light. it’s almost like when he holds her, the world stops moving, earth stops turning on its axis and it’s just two people in an embrace. she forgets cold, she forgets winter, she forgets all of her hardships, all she wants is to be held like this for one more second.

this is far more than she had been expecting… so she pulls away. ashamed, she holds him at an arm’s distance, they are close enough so that if she were to lift her eyes up, she could see his expression. but she doesn’t, and the reason is simple, she’s scared. scared that everything will change. that wind will switch directions and she’ll be struck stranded on a boat she claimed could stay afloat.

he reaches to touch her again, she feels the brush of his fingertips through her thin slip and something sparks. she takes a quick step back, her skittishness back again, almost like an outdoor cat not yet tamed. his hands drop back down right away.

“this is all I’ve ever known, Orpheus.” she whispers. “cold and darkness. how to take care of myself in those cold and dark times.”

he clears his throat softly, as if in preparation. “I don’t know how to do any of those things, Eurydice. I don’t know why you let me hold you, but when I saw you for the first time, I knew that I’d known you before, maybe lifetimes ago, but I knew you before we met. I feel like I already know you, and I’ve barely known you for a day.”

she screws her eyes shut, trying to ignore the bubbling in her stomach, the flutter of her chest. gods, she just wants to let it all go, free herself from this turmoil. and she does so by doing the only she knows how to: acting, freeing her body up by moving her body forwards.

she takes two determined steps forward, leaning into him and firmly placing two palms on his chest, gripping the white fabric in her hands. a desperate need to know what it feels like to be near to him. one of his hands comes up to cover a hand, the skin of his hand cool on top of hers. she shivers at a touch on her cheek, but doesn’t pull away. her hair gets tangled in his fingers but she just takes his hand back in hers, the warmth of it all so strange. his skin is cool, but in the bottom of her stomach, the center of her chest, her cheeks, everything is ablaze with the warmth of every sun she’s seen in every summer she’s lived through.

“you are someone I’ve always known.” Eurydice says, starkly and loudly. not a whisper, not a shout, but said so simply that it doesn’t even feel romantic. in her hand, it sounded so lovely, like the words that always come out of Orpheus’ mouth but falling off of tongue they sounded off, too loud for their small environment and the little gap between them. but instead of drawing back, she sees him smile, the smallest, most wonderful smile she’s ever seen.

the world is strange, Eurydice knows that. fate works in ways she could never think of. but she never imagined she’d be here, in love with a poet, in love with a boy she hasn’t yet known for more than a week. in love.

she’s in love.

the kiss happens before she’s really aware of it, his fingers are grazing along his jaw one second and the next, she’s tasting honey and the sweetness of someone with a voice made up of every song ever written. usually, her bodily instincts would kick in at this point, she’d grip the back of his shirt and tug him closer, how she always does when she’s kissing someone. but she’s aware of every movement, every shift of weight. instead of gripping him close, she allows her hands to wander, delicately counting up his ribs. and there, she can feel each time he takes a sharp intake of breath, each time he exhales. her hand finally rests over his heart, thump, thump, thump, a quick steadiness there under her palm.

she pulls away after what likes both a few seconds and a million years. close, they are still quite close, but what lies between them is what causes her to pull away.

“is this okay?” Orpheus asks, drawing back slightly. “you’re okay?”

“yes,” she smiles, something burning behind her eyes at the fact that he even bothered to ask. “yes, I’m more than okay… kiss me again?”

he does. and she loses herself in it. running her hands through his hair, trailing down to trace his spine. his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her ever closer. he tastes like sunshine, like honeydew and faint mint mouthwash. she’s not sure how to bridge the space between reality and Orpheus, it’s as wide and far as the space between space and time, nonexistent yet infinitely far. how can you measure that kind of thing? she can’t get him out of her head, she can’t cut the tie that keeps her attached him, otherwise she would’ve left the moment she severed that tie. it’s unbreakable, somehow, she’s still here, still holding him close. still kissing him. the warmth in her stomach that she’s been trying to ignore now flourishes, it grows and spreads through the rest of all her, all the way to her fingertips to the ends of her hair. but no matter how much harder she kisses him, how passionate it gets, he’s still holding her with a gentleness behind his touch. she’s still holding him with feather light fingers.

still holding him.

*

the warmth of him wakes her, the odd feeling of being so close to someone just isn’t normal. the comfort that settles in her chest isn’t right. so she wakes, it’s still dark, it’s still warm. she can’t ignore that. it is bright and warm and the world has stopped turning for them. and it’s terrifying.

she shifts, lifting herself to look around the small home he lives in, one room attached to a little kitchen, a tiny bathroom with a shower separated by a curtain, one red couch. not much, barely anything, really. definitely not sustainable for two people. he’s a poet; a musician, he can barely take care of himself, let alone take on another body. and she can’t either, she lives off of each days wages, from odd jobs here and there, dancing at bars here and there, pickpocketing on the side. they could never…

she sits up, the notion of it is insane, the idea of it even crossing her mind isn’t right. so quietly, she slips out of bed, padding across the floor to find her clothes. she could pack her things and go right now, go, go, go where she could forget about the pretty boy with the pretty voice and the beautiful heart. she could run off into the distance, follow the train tracks until she falls off of the earth and never see the light of day again. she’d never have to face the beating of her heart again, or the idea that she could love someone, that someone could love her. but she knows, deep down, that at least one night, his name would cross her mind again, and then she’d see his eyes and then hear his voice, and the feeling would be back. she’d always come full circle back to this place and this feeling and him.

she’s more than half dressed before she even stops to look at his form, lying on the bed, all slumped and messy and inviting. as she pulls on her slip over her underclothes, she blinks at the silence that he can achieve in sleep. for someone always making noise in waking hours, he’s a surprising silent sleeper. not a snore, not a grunt, he just lies there like a corpse. the only indication that he is alive is the steady, slow up and down of his rib cage. his arm that had been resting on her side now lies palm up, stretched out like it’s reaching for her. his body seems caved in and incomplete without her back pressed against his chest. and if she shifts slightly to the right (which she then does) she can make out his face, hair falling over his forehead slightly, lips parted just so. lips she had been kissing not to long ago. his eyes closed gently, she could kiss his eyelids right now and he might not wake up.

damn him

slowly, she lifts his arm as she climbs back into the bed, covering herself first with the thin blanket, then replacing his arm back where it was before: resting gently on the curve of her waist, the heaviness keeping her grounded.

It scares her half to death when he speaks, even though it is just barely a whisper. “were you going?”

it takes her half a second too long to respond. “no- no, I just got cold, that’s all.”

her face burns at getting caught in the act. cold, my ass. It’s summer, she’d have to be cold blooded to be cold enough to put on more layers right now. and he knows it.

“you could leave, if you want to, I’ll pretend I’m asleep and you can go.” he’s trying to hide his hurt, the hurt she know he’d have felt in the morning if she’d just gone a few minutes ago.

“of course not.” she answers right away. “I’m staying right here.”

moments pass in slow silence until she can’t take it anymore, she rolls over onto her other side, to face him. his eyes watch her with reverence in them, completely enraptured by her mere presence. her fingers trace over the bones of his face, down the bridge of his nose, along his jawline, under his eyes. she takes one of his hands and places it on her cheek, leaning into the warmth of his palm, never wanting to pull away or feel the cold again. his hand moves on its own accord, brushing across her eyelashes, slowly running his thumb over her lips before again settling perfectly against her cheek.

“say that you’ll hold me forever,” she whispers, the words catch in her throat. she’s never said something like this before. “say that the wind will never change on us.” her eyes finally meet hers, something in them keeps her here, keeps her from running. “say we’ll… stay with each other and it will always be just like this.”

his answer is immediate and genuine, never doubting, never taking a moment to reconsider.

“I’m gonna hold you forever,

the wind will never change on us,

as long as we stay with each other,

then it always be like this.”

it’s the first time in her whole life that she’s been told this and she believes it. so she doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing. instead, she relies on what she always does: her gut. instincts kicking in, she leans in, kisses him one more time, that hand still on her cheek, just as gentle, a reminder that he is here to stay.


End file.
